


A Wider Ambit

by wowzaKy



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternia is Terrible, Clown Religion, Cults, Dammek Needs a Hug, F/F, F/M, Government Experimentation, Humans on Alternia, Hurt/Comfort, I swear this fic isn't all dark, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Joey Claire Needs a Hug, M/M, Military, Rebellion, Swearing, The power of friendship, Torture, Yikes, but it does get better, literally everyone needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:46:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowzaKy/pseuds/wowzaKy
Summary: In which the portal in Joey’s attic doesn’t transport passengers directly to the conjoining portal, but instead to somewhere in the general vicinity. This changes everything.AKA Dammek & Joey both need a hug, Xefros leads a lowblood rebellion, Jude joins a cult, and the world discovers aliens. Not necessarily in that order.
Relationships: Amisia Erdehn & Chahut Maenad, Dammek & Xefros Tritoh, Joey Claire & Jude Harley, Polypa Goezee & MSPA Reader, Tagora Gorjek/Galekh Xigisi, Tyzias Entykk/Stelsa Sezyat
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. In Which Dammek Contemplates Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!  
> Welcome to my first multi-chaptered Hiveswap/Homestuck fic!  
> Enjoy my aggressive over-use of italics, lmao.  
> Feel free to leave any comments, questions, critiques, or concerns in the comment section~  
> A Warning: This fic is going to get pretty dark at times, so heed the tags m'dudes. I'll do my best to add warnings on all chapters with darker subject matter, as well.
> 
> That being said, 
> 
> WARNING: Violence and guns ahead.

You know, Tetrarch Dammek had thought about his own culling many times over the sweeps. As a bronzeblood, there stood before him a myriad of options, all ending in his tragic demise: from drones, to highbloods, to betrayal (Dammek reminded Xefros of this constantly. Never, ever, put your trust in anyone. Always be vigilant, always aware. Their fellow trolls would stab them in the back, crush their frond hinges, and feed their twitching carcasses to their luusi in a bloodpusher beat if given the chance-), to being discovered as the leader of a slowly (but surely) growing rebellion against The Empire. Maybe he’d even die in a glorious blaze, sacrificing himself for the survival of the rebellion, becoming a martyr like The Sufferer. Maybe Trizza would bomb his city while he slept, culling him before he could react. There were a plethora of options. Because, well- on Alternia, anything was possible when you were hatched on the bottom of the hemospectrum (Which, he would like to note, could kindly go fuck itself).

And those thoughts didn’t even TOUCH the more specific fantasies he’d conjured late into the day, when his thinkpan raced with ideas of the future, of what would happen to him and his moirail, his fellow revolutionaries, of what Alternia might be if they won. If they lost.

But with all of...That...Dammek never thought he’d be culled like this. Or, well, he had contemplated betrayal, of course. Just...not betrayal by his own secret weapon. Really, it would be laughable if it wasn’t happening to _him._

Dammek had been analyzing his notes, trying to decipher more of the weapons blueprints, when bam! The stupid thing turned on (how unfair was that? He’d been trying to get it to work for over a fucking sweep now!) and sucked him up in a beam of crimson light. Said crimson light catapulted him from his hive into what appeared to be space, far away from Alternia. Far away from Xefros. A similar beam, lime green, had shot parallel to him, and in the few seconds he had before being launched to his apparent doom, Dammek could make out a strange, horn-less troll. Wait- was that thing even a troll? Was it responsible for this whole clusterfuck in the first place? And is that something he should be worrying about when he was, as mentioned, being launched to his doom?

Before Dammek could answer his own thinkpan, his vision was flooded by deep blues and greens. The crimson beam surrounding him didn’t shudder as he passed through a planet’s atmosphere, somehow protected from the fluctuating temperatures (not that he knew that, per say, as Dammek was currently too busy lamenting his weapon’s betrayal and his rapidly approaching meet-and-greet with death to give any shits about the atmosphere or of the hoofbeastmanure magics of gravity-defying, crimson beams). Below him, the colors formed foliage. Foliage that was flying up to meet his face...Maybe he should be more concerned-

And with that, Dammek slammed into the ground, out cold.

**~~~**

“General! Satellites have picked up an incoming unidentified flying object. Our system isn’t registering it, what should we do?”

General Arnold Trigg turned to Officer Molly Mostafa, whose golden eyes were wide with worry. The monitor in front of her blinked, a little green dot indeed signaling the presence of an incoming projectile from space. As if triggered by her words, other monitors surrounding her station began to blink rapid-fire notifications, swallowing the screens in warnings. Above head, alarms began to shriek. Shouts of similar panic began to rise as more officers clocked the trajectory of the UFO: Hauntswitch. More precisely, five miles out from their military base, situated in the dense woods surrounding the little Oregon town.

In the odd thirteen years the military base had been in operation, the closest they’d come to action involved a minor forest fire scare and a power outage. Both issues resolved before anything could come of them. Nothing happened in Hauntswitch. It was boring, bland aside from the occasional storm. The only notable thing being the town’s unusually high number of wealthy elite, whose mansions splattered Hauntswitch’s northern border. Since being stationed here, the officers, soldiers, and meager research branch had little to do besides the basics of their jobs.

So, it was understandable, when the alarms blared for the first time since their installment, barring routine system checks, the military base of Hauntswitch, Oregon, descended into an immediate chaos.

Officers scrambled to hone in on the UFO in an attempt to discern its size, shape, the coordinates of its predicted land site, anything that could help determine the UFO’s threat level. Scientists aided them, calculating equations in time with the computers, calling out new information as it was discovered. Lower ranked soldiers ran around the base in a frenzy, gearing up for...whatever was to come (but really, what could they do against a UFO? It's not like they could shoot it?).

General Trigg stood calm in the middle of it all, broad-shoulders squares and lips twisted into a faint grimace. Ignoring the rabble around him, he followed the blinking dot on Officer Mostafa’s (who was too busy helping her fellow officers to notice) monitor. Not the one that was shooting down the screen, the one that had his base in a tizzy, no, but the one that was shooting up. A second dot. One that was leaving their planet in place of the first dot. What could it be, he wondered. It must have to do with the UFO. But how?

He was broken from his musings by his Lieutenant General, Quinn Shafer, whose usually jubilant face was lined with unease.

“General Trigg, we have narrowed the UFO’s coordinates down to a mile radius. What is our course of action?”

“...Grab twenty officers to scout the projected site of impact. Take the drones as well. I’m not sure what you’ll encounter out there…”

“Roger that, General. Should I notify the higher ups ‘bout the UFO before we go?”

“No. I’ll handle them if it comes to it.” Trigg’s grimace deepened at the thought. He wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling things were about to get messy. Great. Shafer would be sure to comment on his increase in gray hairs in the coming months, Trigg could tell. But. If they had to deal with the big wigs from Washington, aggravating as they could be, so be it. He had been getting bored with the monotony anyways.

Lieutenant Shafer nodded, then left to prepare his scouting squad. Man, this day had gone from zero to one hundred REAL fast! He couldn’t wait to gossip to his wife about this (within the regulations of government confidentiality, of course. Shafer, contrary to what Mostafa and the younger officers thought, did take his position seriously. He hadn’t ranked Lieutenant General by horsing around- though he did enjoy a good goof every once in a while)!

“Mostafa,” General Trigg barked. The woman in question swiveled around to face him, strands of ebony hair whisping out of her ponytail, “I need you to track something for me.”

Officer Molly Mostafa’s brows rose. She opened her mouth to reply, but Trigg spoke before she could utter a word.

“The second UFO.”

“Second-”

“Yes. It exited our atmosphere as the first UFO entered. See if you can mark its point of departure, track its course. We may be able to discover where these things came from, what they are.”

Officer Mostafa gulped (A second UFO? LEAVING EARTH?! What the actual FUCK. She had not signed up for mystery aliens, or meteors, or whatever bullshit this was when she had applied for the Hauntswitch base. She had signed up for a peaceful time in the middle of nowhere, Oregon, in hopes of avoiding deployment out of the country. Maybe get some experience with technology before it inevitably blew big to the public. But here she was. Tracking the second UFO of the day. Yippee!), but managed a sharp nod. Squeezing out “Of course, General!”, she swiveled back to her monitor before General Trigg could acknowledge her awkwardness.

It was time to get to work.

**~~~**

Dammek groaned, forcing his ganderbulbs open. Instantly, light flooded his vision, brighter than the light of Alternia’s twin moons, and for a brief moment he panicked, thinking he had found himself stranded under the cruel Alternian sun. Then, like a shot to his bloodpusher, the memories crashed back down. His weapon, a gaping hole swirling red & green, the crimson beam, the horn-less troll, his crash landing.

“...Where?” Dammek tilted his nugbone to peer at his surroundings, then rolled to his side, pushing himself up onto his strutpods. Dirt clung to his clothes, as did the faint smell of ozone. Around him stood...coniferous fauna? At least, he thought they were coniferous fauna (they certainly didn’t look like any he’d ever seen. Not that he’d seen many, living in the city, but still), tall and thick, branches reaching out, eager, towards the...blue sky...Fuck. Okay. This definitely wasn’t Alternia. If it was, he’d be dead by now...speaking of being dead, how the hell was he not dead? The weapon had transported him at speeds that should have crushed him when he landed. He should be a sad stack of gore, not standing in a small crater (which, _what?_ ), unharmed except a pounding ache in his thinkpan. Dammek wouldn’t question his luck, though. Well, he wouldn’t question it too much. Paranoia was healthy when you were planning to betray The Empire. Or when you had the misfortune to exist with a blood color that wasn’t _fucking fuschia_ , but he digressed.

“First order of business,” Dammek muttered, glaring around in suspicion, “find my shades.” They must have flown off when he hit this planet. Who knew where they were now. Not in his general vicinity, at the very least. Probably hidden in the undergrowth somewhere. Which meant Dammek had to go digging through this strange planet’s undergrowth. Joy.

After he acquired his shades, he’d do reconnaissance. It wouldn’t do to be caught off guard here..wherever here was. A quick glance into his sylladex showed he did, in fact, have a handful of guns in case of a strife. Thank god he wasn’t totally at a disadvantage. With a smirk, Dammek equipped one, feeling at ease with the cool metal pressed under his prongs. Another glance into his sylladex, though, had his smirk dropping. Unfortunately, he must have dropped his portable husktop when he was sucked in by the weapon. No means of communication.

_He was on his own._

Silent as he could, Dammek crept out of his crater. Wary ganderbulbs scanned the forest around him, his body tensed and ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble. He was acutely aware of how his colorful horns and yellow sclera stood out against his muddled green and brown backdrop. Shit. A malfunctioning drone would be able to spot him right now. His prongs tightened on the trigger of his gun.

Better hope this planet had no drones, then.

Drone-infested or not, though, this planet did have some sort of life. Dammek could hear the chittering of beasts, a buzzing in the leaves, a general ambient hum in the air. With his guns, he had a defense if any of it proved deadly. Always be vigilant, always aware, or die.

Ugh. Where were his shades? He’d been sneaking through the coniferous fauna around his crater for too long (like, eight minutes tops, but Dammek didn’t have time to waste. Who knew what had seen his arrival? Bloody crimson beams weren’t exactly conspicuous.). He was about ready to call them a lost cause. Besides, he was alone here. There wasn’t any point in wearing cool leader shades if there was no one to see them; the shades proclivity for darkening shadows would only hinder him. Dammek refused to be hindered. For fucks sake, his whole **thing** was overcoming oppression!

...Wait, what was he- right! His shades. Well. Lack of shades. Time to abandon them, he supposed. Farewell shades, you’ll be missed, but. Reconnaissance on a weird, mystery planet was more important than looking badass.

Suddenly-  
**Crack!**

Dammek dropped to a crouch, freezing. Behind him. The sound had come from behind him. Shit. Fuck. It had been loud. Loud enough to have been something big. Loud enough to have been close. Again. Shit. This wasn’t good. Had it seen him? Should he abscond? Strife? _Shit, shit, shit._ He needed to turn around. Right now, with his back vulnerable, it had the advantage, gun in his fronds or no. Biting his lip (and ignoring the uncomfortable press of his fangs), he resisted the urge to hiss. Hissing would only alert it of his presence. If it hadn’t already seen him. He needed to turn around. The longer he stalled, the more time he gave it to pounce. Even crouched, his horns were tall. Tall as fuck. Colorful. He needed to turn _**now.**_

Readjusting his grip on his gun, Dammek pivoted, loose leaves jostling with the movement. Just as he feared, something was there. Actually, many somethings. Camouflaged, barely visible despite the light filtering through the canopy above, with bulking goggles. Troll-esc, but no horns. They were adult-sized. They were staring at him.

_They had guns._

Wasting no time, Dammek raised his own weapon, firing a shot at the leading figure. Dirt sprayed as the bullet struck the ground, inches from the figures boots. The maybe-troll swore, its friends giving shouts, pointing their guns at him. But Dammek knew when he was out-numbered, and as soon as the bullet exited the barrel of his gun, he was off. Absconding into the shadows.

Or. Well. That was the plan.

Suddenly, pain flared up his side, so abrupt it jarred his gait, sending him stumbling into rough bark. Balance destroyed, Dammek fell. Hard. The pain like acid under his skin, boiling him alive, eating away at his strength. Whatever hit him was no bullet. It was like nothing he’d ever felt. A whine slipped through his lips before he could suppress it, sounding animalistic, sounding scared. Fuck, he was pathetic. But it was hard to keep quiet (to abscond) when he could feel fire writhing inside him, drowning out all other senses. Not that he could focus if he tried. Black dots swam in his vision, the pounding in his thinkpan had gotten worse, and he could taste copper. Had he bit his tongue? He couldn’t tell...he couldn’t...he couldn’t focus.

Dammek’s world was sinking into abyss, stranding him alone with his agony. Idly, he realized he’d been surrounded by black boots. The almost-trolls. Buried beneath his hurt, his instincts screamed, he needed to get away, run, hide, abscond, strife, anything, do anything- but Dammek was too far gone. He couldn’t focus. Pain consumed him, dragging him down into the inky depths of unconsciousness. His gun, the one he’d been clutching so tight, had fallen from his grasp and lay between roots, close enough he could touch it. But his hand curled in his lap, locked by the acid coursing through his veins. _He couldn’t focus._ Noise, syllables, words (?), echoed above him, loud in his ears. He couldn’t make them out. _**He couldn’t focus.**_ He needed to focus, he needed to run, he... _he needed to..._

And for the second time that day, Tetrarch Dammek passed out.


	2. In Which Joey isn't in Kansas (Hauntswitch) Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back y'all! 
> 
> Have some Joey & Jude content, yeehaw.
> 
> (BTW, if any character feels too ooc, I apologize, I'm doing my best to remember every nuance about their personalities- If any of it feels WAY too ooc, lemme know!)

Joey awoke slowly, like a sloth or maybe a cat? Did it matter? Eh, either way, Joey awoke slowly. Her eyelids felt like lead, her tongue sandpaper against the roof of her mouth, and her head throbbing, as if she’d fallen face-first from Jude’s dumb treehouse again. But instead of the tangle of bushes and the scratch of dry leaves, she felt cool concrete and crinkly plastic- wait, was that trash? 

Her eyes shot open. Yup. That’s definitely trash. Ew, it smelled like it too. Why was she laying in trash? The last thing she remembered was the portal opening and sucking her in- oh heck, the portal! It had shot her through space?? She thinks?? She wasn’t sure what else to think. So, space. And the green beam had somehow protected her from the lack of oxygen? 

...Hurray for not suffocating in the void of space! 

Joey was also sure as heck that she had seen someone else shooting through space, in a matching beam, but she’d been going too fast to tell.

Well, now she was definitely awake! Stretching out, Joey pushed herself onto her knees. It looked like she was in an alleyway, more precisely, in a pile of trash in an alleyway. Gross. She stood up, brushing her skirt off as she did. Where was she? Where had the portal sent her? 

Hmmm, seems like her puzzle-solving isn't over yet!

No clues stood out to her in the alley, though, except for the weird, smooth, synthetic architecture of the walls. She could hear voices in the distance. Laughing, yelling, it sounded like people were having fun. Joey supposed her alley adventure was pretty fun, too! If she ignored everything leading up to it, and her internal panic. 

Speaking of-

Would Jude be okay on his own with the monsters? Not that she was worried. Jude could take care of himself just fine! Even if the house was swarming with creepy-crawly snake-y things and flying beasts and- Ignoring it, remember!!!

She needed to figure out where the portal had sent her. Maybe after that she could allow herself to panic and ponder why exactly they even had a portal in their attic, not to mention an heirloom key to trigger it. Woah. Her life had gotten crazy these past few hours. At least she wrote in her diary before she left, that way people would know she did her best if anything bad happened! Not that anything bad would, because it wouldn’t. Nope. Not when Joey Claire was on the case! 

Joey gave her surrounding one last glance, then tilted her head up. Oh. That’s...not what she remembered the night sky looking like. In fact, Joey’s pretty sure Earth only has one moon, and it’s not green OR pink. She reiterated: WHERE THE HECK WAS SHE?! Plus, she’s pretty sure it wasn’t _night_ when the portal kidnapped her! Had she been asleep that long? 

The stakes had just been raised, for not only was she stuck in an alleyway adventure, but apparently it was an ALIEN alleyway adventure! Wow- now she felt bad about arguing with Jude over the existence of aliens, but her guilt would have to wait. No room for guilt in her confusion, sorry. 

This kinda reminds her of her video games, if she was being honest. But significantly more interactive. And realistic. And- 

Cackling broke Joey from the jumbled emotions in her mind. 

Crap! She still had her flashlight and dance shoes, in case of emergency, but she didn’t want to strife again. The monsters at her house had been enough, thank you very much. Though, there was no reason for her to already be on edge. She blamed adrenaline. 

Plus, who knew? Whoever was cackling could be nice! Not everything was out to get her. One bad day of monsters didn’t dictate her life. Neither could her sudden appearance on an alien planet, her waking up in garbage. 

She’d be alright. 

Strengthening her resolve and her optimism, Joey turned to the mouth of the alleyway. Despite the dancing colors and murmur of citylife beyond, it suddenly seemed foreboding, ominous. Not a great sign, but Joey, as mentioned, had had enough of strifing for one day. She wasn’t one for violence, in fact quite the opposite, and while not an entirely positive person, was trying to do her very best to forget how dire a situation she had found herself in.

She didn’t have time to be worried, there were puzzles to solve and a little brother to save! Again, not that Jude needed her help. He’d be fine. 

Probably. Hopefully. 

Darn it, she was really bad at ignoring her panic! She was trying, okay? She really, really was! See? Do you see how freaking hard she was trying here?? How would _you_ like to be accosted by eyeless snake monsters and sucked into a beam of light and abandoned, alone, on an alien planet in an alleyway full of trash?!? See how optimistic and calm YOU could be! 

Okay. Maybe now wasn't the _best_ time for a mental breakdown, but heck if she didn’t deserve it! And- oh crap someone was still cackling, how could she forget? 

The sound was long, loud, more like the incessant wailing of crows than a true cackle, it bounced around the alley as the maker of the noise drew closer and closer. Dread curled in her stomach, uncaring of Joey’s attempt at a positive outlook, worming its way up her throat, sticking there, as if she had swallowed a lump of gum. 

_**Oh.** _

Suddenly, Joey found herself rooted to the spot. 

Her eyes couldn’t leave the mouth of the alley even if she wished. 

Fear stuck to her skin like sweat, seemingly appearing from nowhere, and she swore she could smell its stench permeating the air. Buzzing filled her ears, buzzing like the cicadas that lived in Jude’s treehouse-tree in the Summer, buzzing and cackling. 

Why had she thought she could be optimistic? Why had she thought anything could be better? Why had she, _why had she-_

The buzzing was rising, a crescendo. Joey couldn’t think. Rational, logical thought escaped, fleeing from the terror that had crashed into her, abrupt, and there was nothing she could do but stand and stare at the mouth of the alley, at the lights, at the looming figure that materialized before her, grinning with a mouth of sharp teeth. They reminded her of Tesseract’s teeth, dog teeth but jagged, as if deliberately filed to points. 

“Aw? What did? I up and find here?” 

Joey couldn’t respond. She was sure that if she tried to talk, she’d choke on her tongue before a single syllable could leave her lips. 

The figure, the alien, for that’s what they had to have been, with their grey skin and candy-corn-colored horns, both which faced left, curving up from their skull in shapes reminiscent of question marks- if question marks were sharp as knives- tilted their head to the side. Their eyes, yellow, glowing, stabbed into hers with an otherworldly intensity. Their dog teeth curved up into a cheerful grin, but Joey felt far from reassured, and the alien placed a taloned hand on jutted hip. Their limbs, long, thin, stuck out at awkward angles, almost unnatural. A mane of thick, kinky black hair tumbled over their shoulders, wild, unruly, obscuring one of the puffy sleeves of their yellow dress. The same yellow as their eyes. 

Joey would’ve thought it obnoxious, the dress, if she wasn’t busy being super duper scared. 

_It didn’t help that buzzing had only grown. Almost tangible by now, clogging her ears, banging around her skull._

The alien pouted, pursing their painted-black lips, which stood out amongst their garish face-paint- stark white except a dark, grey line across their eyes that peaked up in point between their brows, and four matching grey circles. Two on the corners of their grin, two above their eyebrows. Immediately, Joey was reminded of a clown. If the clown was a creepy alien in a hideous, yellow dress who ate human girls for breakfast. 

“Are you? Going to up and answer? Little mutant?” 

No. Joey wasn’t. Because despite the friendly lilt, the alien’s voice held an undercurrent of intensity. Of evil. Joey could’ve seen the red flags from a mile away. The largest being how the voice crooned the word “mutant”. That word dripped thick with syrup, so thick Joey could drown in it. She would drown in it, if she wasn’t careful. 

The alien took a step closer, head still tilted, bird-like, grin back and stretched impossibly wide. 

Joey tried to take a step back. She couldn’t. Her joints were locked by the crescendo of buzzing, buzzing, buzzing. She couldn’t move. Still couldn’t take her eyes off the approaching figure. Couldn’t breathe. 

“You’re so? cute, quiet? Guess the messiahs are feeling all merciful today, huh?” 

Messiahs? 

“Here I was, all heading back to my hive, all in a mirthful mood, and I up and stumble upon a sound, imagine my surprise when I see you?” 

Yeah, Joey would argue that she was definitely more surprised in this situation. And scared. Surprised, scared, and unable to run. Why wouldn’t her stupid legs work?

The alien crept closer, only feet away from being able to touch her. That...That would probably be bad. If only everything would stop **buzzing.**

“Why’re you so pale? Hornless? It’s adorable, but? Little mu~tant?”

A hand reached out, purple talons caressing her cheek. Joey couldn’t even find the will-power to shake, let alone jolt away from this weirdo. The talons were warm, strangely warm, as they traced swirling patterns into her skin. They, the alien, were close enough now that she could smell a faint whiff of iron, decay. Like they had used raw meat, days old, as perfume. It was putrid, but subtle, hidden under what may have been lavender, and there’s no way she would’ve been able to smell it if not for her proximity to the clown. 

If she was able to, Joey would’ve thrown up, right then and there. 

Suddenly, the hand gripped her jaw, a vice. The talons turned inward, sinking into her flesh. Blood, a brilliant, candy-red, welled up, trailing down her pale skin, weeping. Joey realized she was weeping, too. Real tears. 

_At least she could still manage that._

The alien licked their lips, and Joey wished she had listened to her brother and stayed the heck away from the portal. Ignored it. Sucked it up and waited for rescue from the snakey-thing. 

“Never seen a shade like this, glorious, the Messiahs really have all up and smiled down upon me, bomb ass day, y’know?”

A hum. 

“Little mutant, why don’t you come back with me? ‘Kay?” 

Through the cloy of the buzz, Joey couldn’t refuse.

**~~~**

“Joey? Joey?! Joey, status report! Over!” 

No response. 

“Joey! Hey, Joey?! Enquiring about the flashing lights, are you okay?! Over!” 

Still nothing. 

“Joey, please answer! I’m getting nervous, do you copy??” 

Static was all that answered. 

His sister was M.I.A. 

_Joey was M.I.A._

Jude stared at his radio, willing it to respond. Anything. Anything but static. Any sign Joey was safe. That she hadn’t been injured when that green beam shot through the roof of their house, up and up into space. But there was nothing. 

Roxy was gonna kill him when she got back from the labs. 

Shuddering that the thought of his babysitter angry, Jude stepped back from his treehouse window. It was time to take stock of his current situation. 

**What he knew:**

****

**1.**

Their yard, then subsequently their house, had been invaded by enemies. Specifically, eyeless, toothy, multi-legged monsters. And while they didn’t possess eyes, they were still able to sense life. Possibly thermal-vision?

****

**2.**

The monsters had been sent by the cult next door. He didn’t have solid proof, yet, but he knew it had to be them. _He knew._

****

**3.**

Joey had fled into the house, pursued by enemies, while he took the high ground. He’d done his best to help Joey via walkie-talkie, but hadn’t been in contact with her since she reached the attic.

****

**4.**

As surmised by the green beam, she’d probably ignored his warnings about the portal. This was...bad. Really bad.

****

**5.**

A similar beam, crimson, could be seen touching down in the distance. He wasn’t sure how far away, but it was probable it hit somewhere in the forest. He’d investigate further, if not for, well, everything.

****

**6.**

With Joey M.I.A, Pa out of the country, Tesseract in hiding, and the Lone Gunbirds no more, Jude was now a one man mission. There was his pet, but they were in the house. The house that was now enemy territory and partially destroyed.

****

**7.**

Worst of all, supplies in the treehouse were dwindling. Without sufficient means to defend himself and only a few snacks stored, he couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually, he’d have to move.

 _This would be...fun._

First order of business: figure out a way to deal with enemy faction, so he could escape his treehouse unharmed and get into the house. 

He needed to check on Joey. 

True, it was unlikely he would find her, but.

He had to try. 

“Two enemy agents above the house, three running around the yard…Presumably more unseen, unknown numbers inside the house.” Jude mumbled, pacing. His odds weren’t optimal, but he could work with it. He managed to distract the monsters earlier. 

Although, he had a flare gun earlier. He didn’t have one now. 

Come on, think Jude! Joey was counting on you!

Could he use marbles? Make a make-shift slingshot, use those as a distraction? No, he doubted they’d be effective. At least, they wouldn’t be effective enough to get him anywhere. Did he have anything else? Anything? 

Gah! Why had he emptied his sylladex this morning?! He really could’ve used one of his pistols right now! 

There were, of course, an assortment of other items stored up in his treehouse, but most pertained to his research. What Joey would call his “stupid conspiracies, you know aliens aren’t real Jude-”. To which he would respond, “They so are! The government just wants you to THINK they aren’t, Joey!” And then they’d bicker until Roxy laughed, breaking the tension immediately with one of her hilarious wizard tales. 

...He and Joey would bicker again.

The alternative was unthinkable.

But he couldn’t get to checking on his sister, let alone assist her, if he couldn’t figure out a way to deal with the monsters, get to Half-Harley manor intact! 

Think, Jude, think! You’re smart, you may not be a puzzle-genius like Joey, but you were an investigator! A tactician!! A strategist! You’d sniffed out the truth from the barest of bones before! You’d befriended and trained a whole squadron of gunbirds!

(Rest in Peace Frohike, you will be missed. Langley? Not so much.)

If anyone could improvise a plan, it was you! 

~~~

Fourteen minutes of pacing and mumbling and struggling to come up with a suitable strategy later, Jude plopped down on the wooden floors of the treehouse, defeated. He just couldn’t think of anything! Nothing that would help, anyways...

Joey was M.I.A. and here he was, lost, and pathetically planless. 

Jude’s gaze slid across the room around him. How was none of this, all his notes and charts and plans (but not ones he could use), useful? At ALL??? 

_Some brother he was._

Finally, Jude’s gaze landed, once again, on his walkie talkie. It hadn’t ceased its silence, sure to only sound static if he were to continue his calls to Joey. A little black box. Nothing more. Just a little, useless, freaking box! 

...Wait. Static. 

**HE WAS GETTING STATIC!**

That meant his walkie talkie could still tune into other frequencies! Specifically, frequency Code Triple Red, reserved for only the utmost of emergencies! And this was an emergency if Jude had ever seen one! 

How had he not thought of this earlier?! Man, Joey was right, he was so, so dumb! If he had used Code Triple Red when the monsters invaded, maybe he wouldn’t be wasting time moping!! 

Jude was an idiot who thought he was on a one man mission when backup had been waiting in the wings since the start! 

Springing up, Jude swiped the walkie talkie. Flame of hope rekindled, coursing through his veins, jubilant. Quickly, he dialed the knob on the side of the walkie, switching the frequency. 

“Mulder to Web Ring, Code Triple Red, I repeat, Code Triple Red! Over!”

Crackling. 

Then. 

“Lolli to Mulder, Code Triple Red recieved! Backup en route, over~” 

“Austen to Mulder!!! Code Triple Red acknowledged!!! On my way, too!!! Over!!!” 

**YES!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, done! 
> 
> I feel better about this chapter than the first, but idk. Again, hmu in the comments if you notice anything or have any feedback! 
> 
> I've also done some doodles for this fic, which, if I ever figure it out, I'll put on here. BUT they are posted on the lovely Hiveswap/Homestuck community on Amino, under my same username, wowzaKy!
> 
> This is random, but if y'all haven't checked out Seahorse Trash's Hiveswap Musical on YouTube, I heavily implore you to do so. The whole thing is a BOP. I spent this whole chapter listening to it!
> 
> Next up, Xefros!
> 
> Edit: Can y’all see the doubled end notes? If so, any idea how to erase them? :’)

**Author's Note:**

> Me, writing this chapter: How to original characters? How to w o r d s ? 
> 
> If y'all can't tell, despite some research, I only hold a vague idea of how military bases work. And how the military works, lmao. Lemme know if I blundered anything.
> 
> I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter, so any & all feedback is immensely appreciated.
> 
> Next chapter features Joey & Jude! 
> 
> This fic doesn't currently hold an update schedule, but I plan on getting the next chapter out ASAP, so stay tuned!!! :D


End file.
